


Bitchy

by RumbleFish14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Banter, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gallavich, M/M, No Mick/Byron sex, Past Relationship(s), Season/Series 10, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Mickey gets really bitchy when he doesn't get something shoved in his ass once in a while
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich/Byron
Comments: 53
Kudos: 321





	1. Barry

**Author's Note:**

> FB prompt, Bitchy Mickey 😁

Bitchy  
(One shot, Part 1of 2:Barry)

"Jesus fuck, is this bitch done yet?" Mickey barked as the cleaning lady once again stepped in front of the TV. 

She'd been there for the last half an hour, in his way no matter where he went. First she bumped him with her stupid cleaning cart, then she took the bowl he'd been eating cereal out of to wash it, when it was half full. And now she was taking forever cleaning the TV. 

Byron rolled his eyes. He was perched on the side of the couch next to Mickey, picking at his colorful nails. "Mickey honey, she is supposed to clean. It's not that big of a deal."

It would be so easy to bring up his elbow and shove Byron off the arm of the couch. The fucker was so delicate, Mickey was sure he'd break his assbone falling and then he'd have to pretend to care. 

Jesus, kill me now. Mickey thought over and over as the game played on without him. Why it took her three innings to clean the damn tv, he'll never fucking know. 

"Why didn't you just record it for later?" Byron asked, giving him an annoyed look. "No one actually watches live tv anymore."

"Yeah, cuz what's the point of that, right?" Mickey said in his most sarcastic voice he could manage and moved away from the both of them. 

A beer. He definitely needed a beer, or twelve. Mickey felt his irritation rising again when he looked into the refrigerator and saw only those incredibly fruity, incredibly gay strawberry daqiaris Byron drank. The ones with 0.01% alcohol and had enough sugar to rot your damn teeth. 

"Hey Barry," Mickey said his name wrong on purpose just to see if he had the balls to correct him, which he didn't. "You got anything a man would drink?"

Byron sighed dramatically and moved to the window. "You mean the beer that cost less than a gallon of milk and tastes like piss? No, I don't."

Mickey laughed as he shut the door. He lived to create shit to piss Byron off. Getting his name wrong, constantly making fun of his drink choices. Just little shit to get his little motor running. He needed something fun to do after all.

"Aww don't be like that sweetie," Mickey smirked as he pushed up against his back, using the little pet name just to piss him off even further. "You know I'm just playing."

"No, you're not." Byron pushed him back with his elbow and turned. "Now I see what you meant about getting bitchy."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up and he heard the said gasp in surprise from the other window. "Excuse me?"

"You warned me if you didn't get something shoved in your ass once in awhile that you'd get bitchy." Byron reminded him with a smile, then gestured to his asshole like behavior. "I just didn't think you were serious."

It had been a few weeks since he got laid the right way. Switching from power bottom to top was harder than he realized. It was like changing your religion. It seriously altered his life...in a bad way. 

"Maybe we should give it a try before I lose my shit." Byron crossed his arms, waiting. 

Mickey felt eyes on him. He turned to see the maid staring at him. At them. "You got a fuckin problem Consuela?" He barked, smirking a little when she gasped again and moved to the other side of the room. "Yeah, that's exactly what I thought."

Byron just gave a loud sigh, tapping his foot. "Leave her alone. She leaves in ten minutes. Then we need to try this out because I can't take any more."

"First of all," Mickey held his finger up. "I am not bitchy because I haven't gotten my ass played with. Second, if you didn't need this place so fucking clean, maybe I wouldn't be so irritated." Mickey wanted to slap him when he rolled his eyes. "And third, you ain't packin what I need for that."

"Sorry I don't have gingers big dick, but you need to deal with it or take a nap until you calm down." Byron snapped back, watching blue eyes widen as he walked away. "Because it'll only get worse."

Mickey went after him, grabbing his arm and spun him around, getting in his face. "You are not capable of giving me what I need. So unless you got a box of toys I don't know about…"

Byron grinned, his hands moving over Mickey's sides for a split second before they were pushed away. "I might have bought you a thing or two while I was out."

Great. He officially just earned the 'kept boy' title. And as much as he hated it, having a vibrator shoved up his ass didn't sound too bad. At least it wouldn't be Byron's dick. 

"Let's get to it then before I freak out." Mickey pushed him a little towards the bed, then shot a mean glance at the maid. "Might wanna scram Consuela, unless you're into shit like that."

The maid gasped, one hand on her chest and broke out into some other language, one that was not spanish. She grabbed her shit and practically ran out the door. 

"That was mean. And her name isn't Consuela." Byron hissed as he moved to one of the many flowered boxes he had stacked on the shelf and grabbed the top one. "Just leave her alone."

With an amused smile, Mickey made that obscene jerk off motion with his hand and started to strip, leaving his clothes in the way on purpose just so Byron bitched about it. 

"Leave your shit on." Mickey commented as he got on his knees at the end of the bed. He was feeling far too exposed but too excited to comment on Byron's shocked look. "Get a move on Barry."

Byron snapped to attention and quickly sat the box on the bed, opened it and pulled out a brand new vibrator. Nearly 10 inches just because Mickey bragged enough about Ian for him to know he was packin 9. He hoped this would make Mickey miss him enough to leave. 

"Are you gonna let me open you up for this or just take my head off again?" Byron asked, an expensive bottle of lube in his other hand as Mickey looked back. 

The sight of that vibrator was enough to make him clench, for sweat to slide down his spine. He fucking wanted it, just not from him. 

"Yeah, just no dragging it out." Mickey barked and looked away. "Only two and don't use too much lube. Don't need that shit all over the bed."

Byron just groaned, an annoyed whiny sound and Mickey was already losing his excitement. He wanted the toy, like really fuckin bad but he didn't need some guy whining the whole time. 

Mickey felt a chill up his spine when the cap on the lube was popped, followed by that squirting sound. He kept still when small fingers circled him. It felt all wrong, but his body reacted. Making him gasp as he pushed back a little.

In his mind, he pictured Ian and his very manly, large, rough hands. Long, skilled fingers giving him what he needed. He never had to give Ian direction because that bastard knew what he needed. He created the shit he now craved. 

"Hurry the fuck up." Mickey barked but it came out less mean than he was trying for. Sounded more pathetic. 

"Bitchy." Byron muttered under his breath and easily slipped one finger inside. 

Mickey's entire back bowed as his eyes closed. It was hardly what he needed but it was something. He even had to bite his lip as that finger moved quickly, teasing him a little too fast, but not yet uncomfortable.

"You really are a bottom, aren't you?" Byron asked, surprised. 

"Shut up and give me another one." Mickey barked and glanced back. 

Another finger was added and Mickey prepared to roll back against it, only to jerk away when sharp nails scraped against him. He hissed and moved away, horny and pissed the fuck off. 

"Jesus, nails much?" Mickey growled and quickly slid off the bed, pulling on his clothes. 

"What?" Byron squeaked. "They aren't even long enough to cut you." He showed him his nails. "I have no issues with them."

"Yeah, well I don't need manicure nails cuttin me up." Mickey pulled on his shoes, grabbed the vibrator and headed for the door. "And I'm keepin this!" 

"Jesus!" Byron went after him, moving down the stairs quickly. "Where are you going?"

Mickey didn't bother to look back. "To find someone who can fuckin use this the right way."


	2. Fire Crotch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey goes to Ian for advice on toy use with Byron and gets a different demonstration

Bitchy  
Part 2 of 2: Fire Crotch  
(continued)

Mickey stood on the steps of the Gallagher house, thirty bucks lighter from paying the stupid cab to take him out of uppity-ville and back to the slums. 

And there was no fucking way he swiped the keys for Byron's faggy ass Vespa. He'd rather crawl through the streets then drive that thing himself with no one to shift the blame on when he got caught. 

It was bad enough that he almost popped the cab driver for having the nerve to comment on his very large, very real looking vibrator. Mickey nearly slapped him with it before he left. 

People these days just couldn't mind their own business. 

"Anyone home?" Mickey barked as he beat on the door like the porch was on fire. 

He came to Ian for the same reason he kept the vibrator, because he really needed sex the right way. Only he couldn't just tell Ian that because that bastard would get that smug look on his face and it would piss him off. 

His objective was to piss Ian off so much that they ended up fighting again because when they fought, fantastic sex followed. 

"What do you want?" Carl asked, voice clipped short as he looked behind Mickey. "What, no glittery twink today?"

"Nope." Mickey shoved him aside and stepped in. Carl slammed the door behind him. "Gimpy around here?"

Carl pointed up the stairs as he flopped down on the couch. "Just keep it down, yeah? I don't want to hear him makin you his bitch again."

Mickey grinned as he walked passed the couch. He didn't say anything, only moved his hand quickly and slapped the back of Carl's head before he took the stairs up. Carl bitched like a brat the entire time. 

"Gallagher!" Mickey called in a sing-song way and move down to their old bedroom. He didn't knock, but kicked the door open until it smacked against the wall. "Wakey wakey."

Ian bolted up from a deep sleep. He instantly hissed as his leg shifted too far over. He gripped it just above the knee as if that would help, then glared at Mickey. 

"I think you're lost." Ian said dryly. The pain stopped enough for him to lay back down, one arm behind his head. 

Snappy words were on the tip of his tongue but he hesitated the moment Ian's shirt lifted, showing him the light red happy trail that lead to what he needed. The only thing he needed. 

Ian chuckled in that dark way and shifted his hips. "So, how's being a top treating you?"

Mickey looked up and flipped him off.

"Oh yeah, verse, right?" Ian laughed again. "I can see it's helping. You look so relaxed." He said sarcastically. 

"First of all, get fucked. Being versatile is better than it sounds." Mickey snapped back, forcing his eyes to stay on Ian's face and not on his boxers. "And second, I need your help."

Ian lost the teasing smile, growing serious. "What's wrong?"

With a grin, Mickey held up the vibrator, making Ian's eyes widen. "So Barry needs a little help. He's a good bottom and sucks like one of those Shark vacuums, but needs pointers on toys."

Ian's mouth dropped open in shock. For a moment, he couldn't even speak. Caught between surprise and jealousy. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He barked harshly. "You're seriously asking me for tips?"

Mickey nodded, practically vibrating at his reaction. With a glance around the room, he spotted a notebook and a pen, grabbed it and tossed it to Ian as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Nothing complicated because I swear he's handicapped sometimes. Just real simple." When Ian just stared at him, Mickey hit the pillow under Ian's broken leg until he hissed. "Come on, don't got all fuckin day."

"You're an asshole." Ian shook his head. His jaw clenching. 

"Takes one to know one." Mickey replied cheekily and nodded at the paper. "Unless of course you don't know how to do it either." He challenged, trying hard not to smile. 

Ian's eyebrows went up. "Never had to use a toy cuz my dick is bigger than six inches." 

"Six or not, I'll take what I can get." Mickey tongued the corner of his mouth so he wasn't tempted to lick his lips fully at Ian's comment. "Gonna help me out or what?"

Ian sat up, carefully moving his injured leg to the ground. "Yeah, I'll give you a few pointers." He tossed the pen and paper aside and turned to look at him. "But I don't do notes, I do demonstrations so take your pants off."

Maybe the responding groan was in his mind, maybe it wasn't, but it definitely happened. His face flushed hotly, his cock pulsed in his jeans and he was fucking ready for what came next. 

Only he and Ian were currently fighting. That meant he had to act like he didn't want it, when in reality it was all he wanted at the moment. And he didn't just miss getting dicked down properly, he missed the intimacy most of all. 

He missed being Ian's, in every sense of that word. 

"Get your own sex toy Gallagher." Mickey replied calmly like his ass wasn't clenching to feel him again. "I just need a few tips because this one happens to be bigger than you."

Ian stood and hobbled to the door, then opened it and nodded. "Pants off or get the fuck out. Go google for all I care." 

Mickey stood, ready for whatever came next. Even if that meant Ian ripping his pants off. "Fine, guess I was wrong to think you knew what the fuck you were doin."

He didn't make it two steps out the door before Ian yanked him back by the hood of his jacket and pulled him back inside. He pulled so hard, Mickey stumbled back, dropping the toy as he gripped the dresser for balance. 

While Ian slammed the door again and locked it without taking his eyes off him. Mickey stood upright, surprised to see Ian going nose to nose with him, even while he was hurt. His entire body pulsed with excitement, more in the last few seconds then he had in two full weeks with Byron. 

"I think you've been hanging around him too long to think you can just walk in here and talk to me like that." Ian moved quickly, wrapping his hand around Mickey's throat. "I'm not some little bitch on a scooter Mick."

Heat flooded his entire body, probably making his face and ears pink but it couldn't be helped. Ian's touch, although it seemed mean, was just what he needed. It was what he craved. That pleasurable feeling that bordered on painful. 

Only Ian had been able to give that to him. And now he was. Mickey was pretty sure he knew it would happen and came up with shit to say to provoke that response. 

"You are if you can't help me." Mickey breathed out, swallowing just to feel Ian's palm tighten. "Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

Ian smirked just before he twisted him around. Blue eyes widened just in time for him to shove Mickey face first against the wall. "Fuck you." He hissed into his ear, pressing up against the back of his body. "You want me and you fucking know it."

Mickey's moan was muffled by Ian's hand, but he heard it and rubbed harder against his ass. His body responded, pushing back, even when his words didn't match his movements. "No the fuck I don't."

Not believing a single word, Ian grabbed his crotch, feeling him hard and practically begging to get out. "Wanna try that again?" He chuckled into his ear. 

Mickey arched into the touch, tilting his neck to give him more room. His hands moved back to Ian's thighs, fisting the thin material of his boxers. "You heard me."

"Yeah, I did." Ian whispered into his ear. He could feel him tremble because of it. Those soft moans making it impossible not to grind forward. "You must be so fucking dick hungry you can't breathe."

Mickey moaned brokenly. Unable to keep his 'I don't give a fuck' attitude. He needed it too bad to front anymore. But he'd be damned if he let Ian sway him back by pretty words and all that sexual magic Ian had. 

"Think you can do better?" Mickey snapped, elbowing Ian's chest so he took a step back, but instantly returned. "I think you're full of shit."

"Let's find out." Ian whispered as he popped the button on Mickey's jeans, smiling when he didn't stop him, then pushed them down to the ground. "I know your body better than anyone. Better than you."

Breathing heavily, Mickey let his forehead rest against the wall and let it all happen. He wanted it. He wanted Ian to want it, to fucking take it. And now he was. 

"He could spend forever with you and I'd still know you better." Ian yanked his boxers down, noticing the leftover lube, smirking because that meant Byron couldn't help him like he needed it, so Mickey came to him. "Deny it all you want."

"Just shut up." Mickey kicked at Ian's good leg hard enough to make it buckle, bringing him to one knee as his bad leg was off to the side. "I like it better when you don't talk."

"Keep telling yourself that." Ian smacked his ass, groaning as it jiggled. Then he bit it. Gripping with both hands, then slapped it. "Fuck."

"Fuck." Mickey repeated, his voice shaking as much as his legs.

"I miss the way you taste." Ian growled just before he pushed his entire face into him. Groaning. Wiggling until he licked across him, making Mickey push back. 

"God." Mickey whispered in the crook of his arm so Ian didn't hear it. 

Going weeks without it, it was almost too much. Ian was ruthless. Not easing into it, but pushing his tongue in as soon as possible, fucking him with it. The only thing he was capable of, was punching the wall with the side of his fist and making sure he didn't sound as wrecked as he felt. 

With his eyes rolled in the back of his head, Ian pulled back enough to slide one finger alongside his tongue. He worked them together, quickly opening him up for more. 

"You're still an asshole." Mickey barked, then moaned when Ian crooked his finger just right. "Shiit." He gripped the wall, pushing back. "A big fucking asshole."

Ian pulled back to add another finger, kissing around his cheeks, biting them. "I know." He mumbled between bites, "I'm sorry."

"I'll tell you where you can put your sorry." Mickey snapped, when inside his entire body was melting. Eager to forgive him. Eager to just be together. "You can put it right up your--"

Ian twisted his fingers, pressing into his prostate hard enough for Mickey to lose the words. Only able to moan as deeply as possible, jerking his body back to feel more. 

"Put it where?" Ian smirked, still going strong as he slowly moved up, kissing under his shirt. "Hmm?"

"Fuck me." Mickey blurted, hands moving fast to tear off his shirt. He reached back, pulling Ian fully against him. "Just fuck me."

Slipping his fingers out, Ian quickly shed his shirt, moved to grab the lube and a condom, then slid his boxers down before he moved up against his bare ass. Flexing his hips just so he slid between them. 

It had Mickey's breath catching in his chest, along with the words he knew would sound like begging instead of demands. 

"Hurry up." Mickey whined. He heard the wrapper tear open, Ian's gasp as he slid it down, the pop of the lube cap, then felt Ian against him. "Do it."

"Don't fucking rush me." Ian barked, gripped both hips and pulled so Mickey had to use his hands for balance. He lined himself up, then tucked his face into Mickey's back. "Tell me you want it."

Mickey gave an irritated growl, trying his hardest to push back onto him. "Eat a dick. Get on me or fuck off."

Ian smiled as he pushed in and felt Mickey's entire body shake. He didn't stop until he was flush against his ass, holding him up by his hips. "Tell me you want it."

"No." Mickey said through gritted teeth. One hand moved back, fisting the back of Ian's hair, pulling him into his neck. "Just do it."

That was all he wanted. Ian pulled out all the way, just to watch his hole close. They both moaned because of it. He shoved back in, closing his eyes when the pleasure finally registered. 

"Fuck Mickey," Ian moaned against the back of his neck. He pushed in faster, holding on as tightly as he could. "Been dreamin of this. Of you."

Mickey kept his eyes closed and eagerly absorbed his words as he tried to keep his legs from buckling each time Ian pushed into him. As long as he kept quiet, Ian would keep talking. Trying to get the response he wanted. 

There wasn't much else he could do. It felt so fucking good he couldn't speak. He couldn't think. But he did start to move. Mickey felt himself pushing back each time Ian moved, enhancing the already incredible feeling until he had no choice but to speak. 

"Don't stop." Mickey begged, fisting Ian's hair harder as he breathed harshly into his ear, as he sucked on it, biting. "Don't fucking stop."

"Never." Ian whispered, meaning something entirely different. His hand moved off Mickey's hip, then around to caress the front of his body. "I'm never gonna stop."

"Fuck, fuck." Mickey groaned deeply when Ian touched his cock, using his pre-come to slick the way. It had pleasure shooting over every inch of his body, making him closer then he wanted to be. "Don't drag it out, make me come."

"Not yet." Ian smirked and moved his hand away, making Mickey whine. "I'm not there yet." He lied and slowed his pace, making him work for it. 

"Ask me if I care." Mickey pushed his own hand down, allowing Ian to press his face against the wall. "I'll get myself there."

"No, you don't." Ian snatched Mickey's hand and twisted it behind his back, making him gasp as he kept thrusting. "Not until I let you."

Mickey elbowed him as much as possible to try and throw him off. "Fuck off with that shit." He lost his breath when Ian pushed in harder, making his eyes roll back. "Yeah. Fuck."

"Gonna edge you til you beg me." Ian said hotly into his ear, tilting his body enough so every other thrust pushed into his prostate. "You don't always get what you want."

Ian hadn't been joking either. Mickey moaned his way to the edge over and over again. With Ian teasing him to the brink, only to yank it away. Leaving him a withering, whiny mess. 

"Let me come." Mickey finally begged, not realizing that Ian had to have been just as desperate. With each thrust, he could feel Ian shaking. His breathing ragged in his ear. "I want it." He admitted, finally, making Ian groan and move faster. "I fucking want it."

Ian gripped Mickey's cock, pulling fast, as fast as he moved until both of them were lost. "Say my name when you come."

Mickey could only nod as his entire body began to shut down. There was no way to stop it now. It washed over him in nearly a painful way. "Ian...Ian, fuck!" He screamed his name as he came, not even caring how fucking gone he was. 

It was too good. His legs threatened to give out, he was whining each time Ian pushed back in, taking him to that edge of sensitivity. 

"Mick." Ian growled, moving his come soaked hand up Mickey's chest, then to his face where he tilted it. "Please."

Knowing he would regret it later, Mickey rocked his hips back, then kissed him. Ian growled into his mouth, then his hips stuttered just as he came. They kissed deeply until Ian slowed, until they had to break apart to breathe. 

Ian closed his eyes, resting against him, trying to relearn how to breathe. "Goddamn."

Mickey smirked because Ian couldn't see it. But he knew it was over. Good sex didn't excuse what Ian did, or didn't do. Ian still had to fix his own shit, then fix their shit. It would take work and he wanted Ian to work harder. 

"Thanks for the tip." Mickey kept his voice soft, especially when that broken look crossed Ian's face before he hid it away. "I'll remember it for later."

Ian nodded, pulling out slowly. But before he moved away, he kissed Mickey's cheek, holding it a moment until blue eyes closed. "You're welcome."

Mickey felt cold when Ian pulled away but didn't look back until all his clothes were in place. Ian's were as well he sat on the bed, sweat dripping from his hair. But he wouldn't meet his eyes. 

"How's your leg?" Mickey asked, not sure why he chose now to care, only that he did feel bad. 

Ian rubbed over it. "It's good. Nothing to worry about."

"Good." Mickey repeated it, even when it was a lie. "I'm sorry." Green eyes looked up. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

Ian narrowed his eyes. "The sex, or my leg."

Mickey blushed a little. "Both. But I'm not sorry about the sex." That got him a ghost of a smile. "I didn't think you'd break your leg."

"That's fair." Ian brushed his hair back. "You doin okay?" He asked, finally meeting his eyes when Mickey only looked down as his answer. "You need anything?"

Mickey shook his head. "I'm good." He stood, grabbing the toy off the floor, no longer interested as his ass ached in that incredible way. "But I miss you."

Ian smiled, but he felt all the hidden tears rush to the surface. Ready to start sobbing as soon as he opened his mouth. 

"So stop being an idiot and figure this shit out." Mickey stopped at the door, offering one of those rare, sweet smiles he only reserved for Ian. "You know where to find me."

Ian smiled a little, tears running down his cheeks. "You'll see me soon enough."

With that, Mickey unlocked the door, unable to hide his smile even as he passed a glaring Carl. He flipped him off, then slapped the back of his head once more before he left. 

He had some packing to do.


End file.
